Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Doughnuts
by mvdiva
Summary: Vash is hungover, and the only cure is doughnuts. Meryl is not pleased.


**Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Doughnuts**

or

_How Vash the Stampede Learned to Grovel for Baked Goods_

"You IDIOT! How many times do I have to tell you that double dollars don't just grow on trees? We have a very limited supply of cash, and then you and the other idiot over there..." At this, Wolfwood tossed off a one-fingered salute from his seat on the steps and winked. Vash further cringed into his jacket. Meryl apparently hadn't noticed Wolfwood and Milly's pathetic attempts to hide their grins as her tirade continued. "...Decide to take half of it and drink yourselves nearly half to death! Of course I won't buy you doughnuts. You don't DESERVE doughnuts. What kind of idiot do you take me for, anyway?"

Vash mentally scrabbled about for a different approach. It probably wouldn't work, but he tried anyway. Clear green eyes rounded and began to water - which was more due to his hangover headache pounding a steady rhythm behind his eyes than any real tears, but hey, even the old Earth crocodiles cried occasionally. Or so he had been told. He didn't know what a crocodile was, but it sounded small and probably very furry. Oh. Meryl. Doughnut money. Right.

"A wise, beautiful and intelligent woman who takes care of her companions when they are down and out?" He blinked innocently and turned out his empty pockets, wishing a fly would buzz away for better effect. No luck .

Meryl drew in another breath - no doubt to continue her high-pitched denouncement of his previous night's drinking activities, and then stopped. As in, stopped moving. Even stopped blinking. Well, she did blink. But only once, and her gray eyes moved up to his face, seeming to search for something there. A small frown crossed her own face, and she turned away. "Forget it. I want nothing to do with you right now."

Vash looked over his shoulder for some support from Milly and Wolfwood. The priest frowned and shrugged as if to say, "Well, what did you expect?" Milly was uncharacteristically silent and only gave him a smile before pointing back to Meryl, who stood, shoulders hunched with her back to the group.

His belly was growling and the headache pulsing inside his skull threatened to break out the big drums unless it got some delicious sugary carbs ASAP. All the money Meryl had given him (as a loan of course - as much as she unconsciously mothered her companions, there was no way fifty double dollars wasn't going to be back in her hand at some point) had gone towards buying more bottles of beer than he could honestly remember drinking. He hadn't meant to spend it all, but...well, it was gone. They could always get more, but his stomach required doughnuts NOW.

Of course, this required more drastic measures. Mentally he prepared himself for more of her stinging words and walked around the diminutive woman to face her. As he did, Meryl turned her own face away from him. That wasn't a good sign. Time for the big guns. With a finger, he tilted her unresisting chin up, holding it in place even though her eyes remained obstinately on the ground.

"Meryl...I'm sorry." No response. He sucked in a breath, intent on stringing out the apology. Maybe even a promise to never, ever drink again. That might be kind of a hard one to keep, but if it got him doughnuts...

"I don't care." He blinked. Meryl lifted her eyes and locked with his. "I don't care that you're _sorry_, Vash. Because you're always sorry. You're always SO sorry. But you KEEP. DOING IT." She was getting that crease between her eyebrows that meant all bets were off, lock all the doors and bar all the windows, because the storm's coming. He hated that look.

"You keep drinking, and you keep getting into fights, and you keep getting injured and wasting all our money. Honestly Vash, how many apologies can a person take?"

The hand which had been curled under her chin maneuvered to the back of his head, where he scratched at his scalp in thought. Okay, so...this wasn't just about wasting his money drinking beer with Wolfwood the previous night. It was obvious that something more was bothering her, and honestly, if he had something in his belly and a dark, quiet place to lay down for a while, he might be more interested in getting to the bottom of it.

He could still live a hundred lifetimes, and never fully understand the woman standing in front of him now. The fight in her eyes was gone now - replaced by something he couldn't quite name. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "I'm sorry Vash." He quirked an eyebrow at her. She swallowed, and seemed to focus on one of his coat buttons.

"I'm sorry for being a burden to you." He opened his mouth to reply that she wasn't, of course she wasn't, even if he had complained about her being the annoying insurance girl who had stuck to him like brown on sand in the past, it wasn't true. She raised a small hand to cover his mouth. "Please, just hear me out."

There was a small sound of protest behind them. Milly had her hands over Wolfwood's ears and despite his struggles, the cheerful woman's hands hadn't budged. When Vash and Meryl turned to stare, both froze before turning twin shades of red. As one, the couple turned and went inside their recently-rented accommodations, leaving the tall man clad in red and his diminutive companion alone in the yard.

They both blinked, and Meryl uttered a small chuckle as she shook her head before sobering once more. "Vash...I want to apologize for...well, all of this." Her gesture included their ramshackle rented house, the travel packs neatly stacked outside the door, and the otherwise completely empty yard. To complete the desperate scene of their continued struggles, a lone tumbleweed blew across the yard on an unseen breeze. It was rather appropriate.

"Milly and I and even Wolfwood are keeping you from being something great, something more than a doughnut-addicted drunkard constantly on the run." She frowned and paused. "And maybe you recognize that on some level. I don't know. I can't even begin to understand what goes on in that head of yours." A beat. "All I know is that I'm so tired of living like this. Tired of traveling, tired of constantly being pursued by people with heavy artillery and having to have you defend me, like some damsel in distress."

She looked up to meet his eyes, this time with a smile on her face. "I want to stop running, Vash. I want to be safe. I want to see my family and have a life that doesn't involve people shooting at us all the time."

"Meryl, I don't know what you want me to say." Vash said. He fully hoping that this conversation would end with someone apologizing and then doughnuts being consumed in vast quantities. He was a simple man, with simple desires.

The small woman looked up at him, and flashed one of her rare dazzling smiles. "I don't want you to say anything Vash. I think the whole point of this was that I wanted to say something." She stopped, and the smile vanished off her face, as if frightened away. Vash glanced around to see if there were some outside reason why her big reveal had paused, but Milly and Wolfwood were still inside, and they were still alone, if one didn't include the tumbleweed, which had found its way into the corner between the edge of the steps and the house.

Meryl bit her lip, and clenched her hands together in front of her. "Vash, I love-"

There was a loud bang as Wolfwood threw open the screen door and came barreling down the steps. "Okay, enough you two. The big girl and I are hungry, so we're going into town for supplies and a halfway decent meal. Are you two done with your little conversation?"

The Humanoid Typhoon and the Insurance Girl looked at each other. After a long moment, Meryl seemed to reach a decision. She nodded at the priest, who looked pleased and went back to the house, yelling for Milly to hurry up with her list.

Vash started after him, but had only taken a step before Meryl's small hand was on his arm. "Vash, wait please." He turned back to her, and was suddenly babbling, unsure himself of why he was talking so fast, but he didn't want her to complete that last sentence which still hung in the air between them.

"What did you want to tell me? Did you want me to apologize for last night? Because I am sorry, Meryl. And I will pay you back. I'm just really hungry and more than a little hung over right now, so I'd really like to go into town with Wolfwood. Did you want me to get you anything? I do have a little money left over from last night. Or maybe Wolfwood does. Either way, I can get you whatever you like. And I will make it up to you. I won't drink that much ever again. No, I won't drink ever again. Yeah, that's better. I won't waste any more money, and I am sorry-"

"Vash! Stop. Seriously. You're giving ME a headache." He grinned sheepishly. "I just wanted to say that I...I love doughnuts too. You should get some when you go into town. I'm just going to stay here and finish up my report." She smiled, and made a shooing gesture towards the priest's beat up motorcycle as Wolfwood shuffled past them.

The sound of Vash's stomach growling suddenly was loud enough for them both to hear, and they shared a laugh. Behind them, a breeze pushed the tumbleweed out of its corner, and it continued on its merry way. In another moment, the red jacket was a speck on the horizon as the motorcycle carried them into town.

Meryl turned back and slowly crossed the yard back to the house, intent on digging out her typewriter and finishing off the dreaded monthly report. There was coffee waiting for her, fresh at least if not hot, but bitter by itself. Much better with something sweet. She could hold off a bit until the men returned with their purchases from town. There might even be one or two sweet pastries left, if she were lucky. And if her mouth was full, it wouldn't almost betray her again like that.

Vash hung on tighter to the priest's jacket as the motorcycle turned a corner on the way into town, wondering what he could possibly get for Meryl that would communicate that he understood what she had been trying to say without actually coming out and saying it. His thoughts didn't ALWAYS run toward the immediate requirements of food, sleep, and avoiding bullets. But there was time for those deeper, unexplored thoughts later. His stomach rumbled again as they pulled into the town's main drag and the local bakery came into view.

Although miles apart by then, Meryl and Vash shared the exact same thought at the exact same moment: _Thank God for doughnuts._


End file.
